


Studs, Mares, Proud Hoofbeast Sluts

by kingtumbleweed



Series: The Way You Fight It [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Established Relationship, Gags, M/M, Xeno, horse fetish, horsecock, yeah i did that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingtumbleweed/pseuds/kingtumbleweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat fucks Equius with a horse dildo.  That's just about all there is to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Studs, Mares, Proud Hoofbeast Sluts

    He brings you a hoofbeast cock.  He brings that, and a bit gag, and promises to fuck you until you cry.  

You shy away from it, hesitate, protest:   _I don't think that's going to fit_ , and he shooshes you, reminds you that he hasn't ever hurt you--well, not in a way you've objected to--and details what he's thinking.  When you nod, still slow, hesitant but willing for him, he kisses you, bites your lip, your neck, your shoulders in the way he knows will reduce you to liquid pliancy--his, all his.  It's only when you're nuzzling shamelessly into him, bent down so he can have at any bit of you he likes and shivery with nerves and dubious excitement, that he reaches up to tie your hair back with one of the bands you always keep on your wrists when you're working.  He takes his time undressing you, kicking your clothes into a pile under your table, and reaches up again to fit the bit between your teeth and buckle the straps around your skull.  It doesn't taste of much, clean silicone at worst, but the open angle of your jaw is just enough to feel awkward; it will get tired before long, and you have to struggle not to drool like a mindless beast.  Karkat reminds you:  two snaps for slow down, three for stop.

That's when he lays you back on your work table, sweeping your current project out of the way (you'd been rewiring one of your hive security drones, an experiment with communication efficiency), and sets out his tools.  Sanitizer, lubricant, that... dildo.  You wouldn't believe it was meant to be taken seriously for use if you hadn't seen it done before.  ...You only watched that porn at Karkat's behest, but you didn’t think he'd want to put it into practice.  He'd joked and teased afterward, asking if you'd like to be fucked like his mare, his bitch, his slut, until you'd puddled at his knees, pleading to service him.  Perigees ago, you would have been ashamed of yourself; now, your nook warms at the memory.

He fingers you open, dousing his hand and your nook liberally with lube, and keeps the heel of his other hand firmly over your bulge slit, trapping your swelling bulge inside your body.  You squirm in displeasure, swallow hard--it’s not painful, but not extremely comfortable.  With a sense of dread, you realize he’s going to keep it there, and sweat prickles on your forehead and chest.  Karkat slaps the inside of your thigh, snaps at you to get up, off the table, on your knees, on the floor, and you scramble to comply.

On the floor, he secures your wrists behind your back with spare cord, in no short supply around your work areas.  You're starting to feel less aroused and more panicked and unprepared--your bulge, which had briefly emerging, has fled right back into your flap with alarm.  It's no less engorged for that, and you can feel the throb of blood in time with your heartbeat, heavy and distracting from inside yourself, while Karkat makes a show of lubricating the dildo, from the flared head all the way down the shaft.  If it's an exercise in intimidation, he's doing it right; the thing longer and thicker than your own bulge, and that flare--you're still not convinced you can manage, and you want to try, badly, to show him you can, just for him, but...  You try to keep breathing, don’t grind your teeth on the gag, quash your anxiety.  You’ve managed his whole hand before, but somehow that seems so much less _threatening_.

 _Up_ , he demands, and you rise up from sitting on your heels, spreading your knees without having to be asked.  He kisses your nose for that, and the little flutter in your chest is well worth whatever you lack in dignity for it.  Only then all the breath leaves you, your chest tight and fearful when he reaches between your legs to spread your nook.  Abjection and shame wells up in your throat, and you gag on it, choke against the bit, coughing--you can’t do it, you’ll fail, your body wasn’t made for this--and you click your fingers together--once, twice--and Karkat, right in tune with you, pauses, lets you go.  His one hand cups your nook protectively, the other coming up to your cheek.  He nuzzles your chest, and you’re glad for that--you hate to break contact, even when you need to stop cold.

_Are you okay?_

You pause.  Close your eyes.  Tuck your face into the top of his hair and breathe deliberately, willing your stomach to settle.  You don’t have to do it, you know that.  Karkat won’t be upset with you.  You could just ask him to pail you.  His horn bumps your cheek as he rests his jaw against your collarbone.  No, you’re far more aroused by the idea of fucking--of being forced to fuck a hoofbeast cock--than you’d admit, ever, to anyone.  Except Karkat, who got the idea into his own head to force you onto a hoofbeast cock, and--you nod.

_Do you want to continue?_

Inhale, exhale.  You nod.

Karkat grins.   _You're such a sweet boy._  He kisses the tip of your chin.

Then he lubes the cock again.  The first ridges of cool silicone seem, well, less intimidating, until you can feel the whole head pressed against your nook, and oh heck, it must be bigger around than you are.  Patiently, Karkat fingerfucks and spreads your nook again, your outer lips around the head, teasing your opening with his fingers slipped between you and the toy, and presses it up, firm but not forceful.  

 _Breathe_ , he reminds you, and you do, taking slow, deep breaths, purposefully relaxing.  You're nervous, horribly self-conscious, and you're drooling down your front--your jaw is aching already--but you’re also horny-wet and slipping back into subspace.  Karkat whispers encouragement, easing you down until he can set the base of the toy on the floor, and use your weight to work with you.  You can't see it, but you look down anyway, watching his wrists between your thighs, his fingers easing your nook open, pulling you wider around the toy, the sting of stretch not yet unpleasant as you try to wait it out.  The size of the head does its own job of keeping your bulge trapped now, by just the stretch of your nook, the slit of sheath raw and frustrated, and fiddlesticks, it hits you all at once how badly you want to be rammed full of this monstrous toy.  You want to grind on it, feel the sheer force of a well-bred hoofbeast inside you, filling you far further than even your strong body can handle.  The pressure seems impossible, your nook stings now, badly, but you're sopping wet, actually dripping, and the head is moving, slowly, agonizingly slowly, and then--

\--with a smooth slide that knocks the breath out of you in one noisy gasp, the whole flare slips inside you.  

Karkat chirrs between his teeth in satisfaction, and you make a noise that's part moan, part stuttering whine as his sticky hands press down on your thighs, forcing you down, way down, the shaft, until you bottom out with a sound that you can only, with some horror, term a squeal.  You know you're not hilt-deep, you might not even be halfway, but you're panting and blowing around the bit, nook burning sweet and raw, and your bulge throbbing so forcefully, trapped in its sheath by stretch and pressure, that you can feel the pounding all through your body.

Karkat stands now, wrapping one hand around your neck, where it fits just so under your jaw and you follow him with your face, sweat streaming down your temples and spit dripping in strands from the tip of your chin, and you want nothing, absolutely nothing, but him.  Like everything you can’t admit to wanting, like direction and validation, you want his total possession and he gives it to you, exactly.  He tightens his fingers at your neck, his grip only control, not constriction, directing you.

There must be a suction cup you didn't notice on the dildo, because it doesn't move as you rise up at his pull, scrunching your face in exquisite pleasure-pain, and right back down.  And again.  And again.  Again.  Again.  Muffled spluttering-mewling noises are coming from your mouth with each grind, the head butting up hard against your seedflap, and you know your thighs will soon be burning with exertion, they’re shaking already, but Karkat drives you on the cock exactly as he pleases, his cheeks pink and mouth parted, grinning.  You are raw and throbbing and overstimulated--hurt, sharp, singing nerves roaring through your body--you are sobbing outright with pleasure, hot tears tracking down your face, and you can’t handle this long; when you come, clenching, hard, excruciatingly hard, you actually scream, ragged, crying, whimpering and snuffling and you gag again, and he keeps you riding right through it, slurry dripping from you in a messy splatter you can't control, not with your bulge stuck.  He keeps you riding through every aftershock until you're not even screaming, only blubbering out a raw exhausted, thrilled sound, your body going limp and weak, and when you come, painfully, a second time, your vision blurs dark.

Afterward, when you've regained awareness, freed of your gag and bonds, he goes down on you.   You're through and worn, and his tongue and lips are soft on all your tender bits.  It's so easy to lay back, your body limp and mind hazy, and just enjoy it.  

He hurts you, lovingly, callously, and when he's done, he always spends the time to tend the wounds he's made.  You don’t know what made Karkat Vantas come into your life, but you hope dearly that he never leaves it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the same little set as my other Equikat fic. I may, sooner or later, put all of them in one work, but for the sake of consistency, this is part of a little bitty 'verse I have (entirely for the sake of PWP) with Karkat and Equius are in an ongoing kinky matespritship.


End file.
